


It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

by bansheequeen (queenbanshee), xtremeroswellian



Series: 12 Days of Christmas -- Chlollie Style (2010) [10]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Ghosts, It's a Wonderful Life, Suicidal Ideation, or Angels?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:33:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24246577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenbanshee/pseuds/bansheequeen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtremeroswellian/pseuds/xtremeroswellian
Summary: Oliver gets some clarity from an unexpected source on Christmas.
Relationships: Oliver Queen & Chloe Sullivan
Series: 12 Days of Christmas -- Chlollie Style (2010) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747537
Kudos: 2





	It Came Upon a Midnight Clear

Authors: and   
Title: It Came Upon The Midnight Clear (1/1)  
Rating: PG-13  
Banner by   
Part of the Twelve Days of Chlolliesmas, a series of twelve Christmas themed one-shots.  
Summary: Oliver and Chloe get trapped in a blizzard during Christmas Eve. Season eight AU.

Oliver stood on the edge of the bridge, staring down at the rapidly rushing water below and then taking another drink from the whiskey bottle in his hand. Sniffing, he rubbed the back of his hand over his nose. He'd killed a man. He'd killed a man, and framed another man for that crime. And the other crimes, the ones that were even worse, that haunted him every single time he shut his eyes...he shuddered. He was tired. And all he wanted was for it to all be over with, once and for all. He chucked the now empty bottle down over the side of the bridge, watching as it vanished into the darkness.

Shutting his eyes, he stood still, feeling the cold wind blow against his skin harshly.

"Is this really what you want?" A voice said over his shoulder.

He flinched a little at the voice. The voice that he hadn't actually heard for years, but that he still remembered so vividly. "You're not real."

"I'm as real as you want to make me," she spoke softly, shifting closer to him.

"I'm hallucinating. I'm drunk." He didn't open his eyes.

She placed a hand on his shoulder, "this was never what we wanted for you."

Oliver shuddered even as tears stung his eyes involuntarily. "I know. I'm sorry I let you down."

"You didn't let us down, you have done so much despite everything. We are very proud of you."

"How? How can you possibly be proud?" He shook his head. "I killed someone. One of my best friends' husband is dead because of me. Everything's a wreck. They'd all be better off if I'd never shown up in the first place."

"That is not true, Ollie," she said quietly, "you have done wonderful things for a lot of people."

"It doesn't matter, Mom. None of it matters," he whispered, opening his eyes and staring down at the water once more.

"Think of all the lives you've saved," she said quietly, "all the people you've helped, what would be of them now if you hadn't been there?"

Oliver shook his head. "I'm not that guy anymore."

"You may not feel it now, but you are," her voice was soft as she cocked her head to look at him, "when they need you, you will be there for them again."

"No," he said quietly. "Because they don't need me. They'll be fine."

"You're wrong, son," she whispered to him, "they would be lost without you."

"You don't know that. You're not even really here," he responded.

She was silent for a moment then let her hand drop from his shoulder and held it out to him, "let me show you."

He sniffed, then turned to look at her for a moment, reluctantly taking her hand.

They disappeared from the bridge and appeared a moment later in a prison cell, a single person sat there, his head was low as he stared down at his hands, his shoulders hunched.

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed a little, staring at AC. "What's going on?" he asked in confusion, looking at his mom and then back at AC.

"Arthur Curry is waiting for extraction, he was arrested while freeing dolphins off of the coast of South Korea and he has no one to help him out of his situation or pay for his bail," she told him, "he will be in prison for at least ten years as things are right now."

He held his breath for a moment, then looked over at AC once more. "The others will help him," he said, exhaling. "Clark and Bart and Chloe."

She shook her head, "Arthur has never met Bart without your influence, Ollie." Laura told him softly, "he hasn't seen Clark or Chloe in four years, they don't know he's here."

He paused, staring at the other man, then rubbing his hands over his face tiredly. "Can he see us?"

"No," she told him, "and if he did, he wouldn't recognize you, he has never met you before."

Oliver was silent for a moment. "Fine. So I helped AC out. This isn't real."

"This is the impact you've made in his life, Ollie," she explained, "if it wasn't for you, if you had never existed, this would be his reality today."

He turned away from the sight. "All right. I made a difference."

"You've made a lot of difference," she told him quietly, holding out her hand once more.

He didn't answer, he simply took her hand, wondering when he was going to wake up from this bizarre dream.

They appeared in a graveyard next and Laura stood in front of a tombstone but remained silent as she let Oliver take in his surroundings.

"Why are we in a cemetery?" he asked, frowning deeply as he looked around.

"Read the name," she told him, motioning to the tombstone.

He felt his stomach twist into a knot as he glanced toward the grave that she motioned to. "Victor Stone," he whispered, staring at it.

"Without you, he didn't have the technology to keep himself alive," she told him, lowering her head.

Oliver swallowed hard, shaking his head. "He would've been fine. He wouldn't have ended up like this. Vic's strong, Mom."

"He didn't have any help, Ollie," she said sadly, placing her hand on his back, "without you, the team never existed."

"But I haven't done that much!" He shook his head, refusing to believe what she was telling him. "Sure, I found them, but they were doing good things without me!"

"Without you, they didn't have the support or the direction you provided," she told him quietly, "you are the reason they became the heroes they were."

"Direction." He laughed, but it was devoid of humor. "Right."

She looked at him, her expression soft but concerned, "Victor was focused on getting revenge for what Lex had done to him. He never had the support of a team of people who understood."

He blew out a breath, looking away from her. "All right, so I helped him keep his machinery up to date."

"You helped him beyond that, and I know you know you did." She said softly, watching him closely.

"I don't want to be here, Mom," he whispered.

"Let's move on," she told him, taking his hand once more and appearing in a hotel room this time. There were pizza boxes everywhere, but otherwise, not much except for a younger man sitting on the bed, his eyes on the television in front of him.

A faint smile touched his mouth at the sight of the youngest member of the team. "Bart," he said softly, glancing around the room and then back at the young man. "He's alive."

"He's alive," she agreed, "but look around him, you never chose to buy him that meal, he never had anyone extend a hand to him and believe in him."

His chest tightened at that. The kid was skinnier than he'd ever seen him, looked tired and like he was simply surviving. He swallowed hard and slowly moved closer to the bed, waving a hand in front of Bart, who didn't even blink.

"He's still stealing. Money, food, clothes," she told Oliver quietly, "he never had anyone to tell him how to use his abilities for good, he does what he has to survive, but he doesn't let anyone get close to him because he's afraid of what people would think about his powers."

Unexpectedly, Oliver found himself blinking back tears. "He's a good kid," he whispered.

"I know, you know," she told him in a whisper, "but he never had anyone to tell him that. He never met his dad, his mother was never very attentive and his uncle, who pretty much raised him, passed away shortly after Bart got his power."

He swallowed hard, rubbing a hand over his face. "Yeah, but he had Clark. I mean he met Clark before he ever met _me_. The kid worships the ground Clark walks on."

"Bart doesn't need someone to worship, Ollie," she told him quietly, her expression saddened now, "he needs someone to lean on, to take him in and show him what he can do."

Oliver reached out and rested his hand on Bart's shoulder, not surprised that he didn't look up. "Oh."

"You're a brother to him," she told him quietly, "without you around, he's even more lost than the others."

He turned to look at his mom, sniffing a little. "I didn't know that," he whispered.

She smiled a little at him and nodded, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, "you're so important in their lives, Ollie, more than just as a team member, you helped all of them find their paths, feel like they belonged somewhere and without you, all of that just falls apart."

He shut his eyes, letting out a breath. When he opened them again they were in another cemetery. "Mom--"

"We're here for two others," she told him quietly, her arm still around his shoulders as she guided him to a grave, "this is the first one."

Oliver inhaled sharply as he stared down at Jimmy Olsen's grave. "That's not even possible. It's my fault Jimmy died. If I hadn't been in his life, he'd still be here." He shook his head.

"It was never your fault, son," she whispered to him, shaking her head, "Jimmy was murdered during a robbery, on forty-second and congress, he was in an antique shop, browsing the cameras, it was shortly after Dark Thursday, do you remember that night?"

His eyebrows furrowed, and he shook his head. "No, I don't."

"It was one of the first nights you were in Metropolis," she told him quietly, "you stopped two armed men seconds after they entered the store, you didn't know Jimmy yet at the time, but he was there, hiding behind one of the counters." She took a deep breath, "without you, he tried to react, he wasn't fast enough."

Oliver stared at her. "Jimmy was _there_?" He shook his head, then swallowed hard, glancing over at the next tombstone.

The blood drained from his face. "No," he whispered, quickly moving over to it.

Laura sighed softly and followed him, "a lot has changed," she whispered to him, "Metropolis is dangerous, as dangerous as Gotham is in your time. Clark has given up his abilities and without you and the team, the city has never fully recovered from the effects of Dark Thursday."

He shook his head, his chest tight as he knelt down in front of the stone, touching the letters of her name. "No. Lois wouldn't have died from...she's a good fighter!" he protested.

"She fought," Laura whispered to him, "she fought along with Chloe, but some situations were just too big for them to handle."

Oliver froze when she spoke Chloe's name, and then he turned very slowly to face her. "Where is she?" His heart began to pound quickly in his chest. "Where's Chloe, Mom?"

She took his hand once more and they were now standing in a small apartment, the living room was covered in newspaper clippings, print outs, blue-prints. There were knives and guns spread around one of the tables, two chairs and two laptops sat next to the weapons, one of them was on, the other was closed and covered in dust as it had not been touched in a long time, but there was no one in sight.

"What is this?" he whispered, looking around in confusion. "What's she doing?" He turned to stare at his mom.

"Lois' old apartment, Chloe has been living with her since Dark Thursday, without any of the vigilantes, the two of them had been working together," she explained, "since Lois passed away, Chloe has been doing it on her own," she told him quietly as a wince and a curse came from a room to their right.

He stared at her with wide eyes, then backed away from her, heading into the other room. He sucked in a breath when he caught sight of her in the bathroom, drinking down a bottle of cheap whiskey and returning her attention to the needle in her other hand. He blanched at the sight of blood oozing down her side even as she stitched herself up. "Oh my God."

"Ever since Clark gave up on his powers, she felt like it was her responsibility to pick up where he left off," Laura said quietly, keeping some distance from the bathroom, "she and Lois had been doing well together but after Lois was murdered, she hasn't been able to focus enough. She almost didn't make it tonight."

He rubbed his hands over his face, feeling sick to his stomach. He moved closer to her, his chest tight. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm not going to let this happen to you."

Chloe finished up with the stitches and sunk to the bathroom floor with the bottle in her hand as she pressed a towel against the freshly stitched skin.

"This isn't going to happen," he whispered again, resolve in his tone. He turned to face his mom. "Take me back."

Laura offered him a soft smile and nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder, the messy apartment disappearing and being instantly replaced by the bridge he'd been in before.

Oliver opened his eyes slowly and found himself staring down at the icy water once more. Shuddering, he backed away from it, startled when he saw movement from the corner of his eye. He blinked, turning to face the blond woman who was staring down. "Chloe?"

Chloe blinked, her eyes teary and wide as she looked up from the water, "Oliver?" She gasped, her hands shaking, her chest painfully tight.

"What are you doing here?" His own eyes were wide as he moved closer to her, staring at her.

"I lost you," she breathed, stepping closer to him, her eyes wide, "I thought you had..." she trailed off, her voice shaky as she glanced down at the water again.

"No," he whispered, shaking his head a little, his eyebrows furrowed. "No, I'm not...I didn't..." He reached out and rested his hands on her shoulders, gazing at her for a second before pulling her into a tight embrace.

She closed her eyes tightly and wrapped her arms around him, holding him to her, her heart beating fast against her chest.

"I'm sorry," Oliver murmured, holding onto her.

Chloe shook her head a little and took a deep breath, "you have nothing to be sorry for," she whispered, "I'm just glad you're still here."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised, closing his eyes as he recalled the sight of her stitching herself up.

She nodded slightly and pulled back, her eyes bright with tears as she looked up at him, "you can't," she whispered to him, "we need you."

Oliver swallowed hard, nodding a little. "I know that now. I'm sorry I've been acting like a jackass," he whispered back.

"No, Oliver," she shook her head a little, reluctantly pulling back slightly and taking a deep breath as she tried to calm down after her moment of panic, "no one blames you, we all have our own way of dealing with things."

"And from now on, we'll deal with them together, okay?" He reached his hand out toward her.

Chloe blinked a couple of times at that and looked down at his hand, surprised. She smiled a little and nodded slightly, sliding her hand in his, "okay," she said quietly.

He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, looking up at the sky. "What time is it?" he murmured.

She took a deep breath and pulled her phone from her pocket, blinking a couple of times, "it's midnight."

Oliver turned to look at her. "It's Christmas," he said.

"It is," she said quietly, blinking a couple of times as she looked up at him, smiling softly, relieved.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered, gazing at her.

Her expression softened at that and she nodded slightly, "Merry Christmas."

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Let's get out of here."

Chloe watched him for a moment and squeezed his hand back, nodding a little, "are you okay?"

Oliver met her gaze and held it for a moment. "I think so," he murmured. "Something really strange happened to me tonight."

"What happened?" She asked quietly, her eyes on his face even as they walked.

He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "Do you believe in angels?"

She raised her eyebrows at that, "I believe in ghosts, so I... suppose I do?"

"I'm pretty sure that one just saved my life," he admitted quietly.

"Why?" She asked, tensing again, her grip on his hand tightening just a little, she hadn't been wrong about what he was trying to do, it seemed, "what happened?"

Oliver was quiet for a moment as they walked, instinctively tightening his grip on her hand back, as well. "Let's just say I got a look at how things would have been if I'd never been alive."

"Oh," Chloe took a deep breath and looked down for a second then back at him, "how bad was it?"

He swallowed hard. "It...wasn't what I thought it would be," he said very softly.

She pursed her lips together and shook her head, "if you thought we would be better off without you, I could have told you you were wrong."

"I've screwed up a lot." He glanced at her sideways. "But I'm going to set things right. At least, what I can."

"I don't think you've done anything wrong," she said sincerely, "but I will help you with everything that I can."

"Ditto," he whispered, stopping in his tracks and turning to face her.

Chloe paused too and looked up at him, frowning slightly in confusion.

"You're not alone, Chloe," he said quietly, lifting a hand to her cheek. "I just need you to know that."

She blinked and looked away then nodded slightly before looking at him again, "I know," she said quietly, "and neither are you."

Oliver nodded back, then moved forward and hugged her, resting his chin atop her head silently.

Chloe sighed deeply and hugged him back, even tighter this time, "and if you ever even _consider_ something like this again, promise me you will call me."

"Promise," he whispered, closing his eyes tightly.

She relaxed slowly but not much as she closed her eyes too and kept her arms around him.

"Do you uh, do you have plans for the day?"

Chloe pursed her lips together and shook her head slightly, but didn't pull back "I didn't think I was going to be in the mood to celebrate."

Oliver's arms tightened around her just a little. "Think you'd want to spend it with a slightly worn out billionaire?" His voice was so soft it was nearly inaudible.

She swallowed hard and nodded, her eyes tearing up again, "can't think of a better way to spend it," she whispered, her voice choked up.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Let's go home."

Nodding slightly, she reluctantly pulled back and smiled a little at him, "when you say home... where exactly do you mean?"

"Watchtower," he admitted. "But not to work. Just to...hang out?"

"Okay," she agreed quietly, hesitating for a second then taking his hand in hers again.

Oliver slid his fingers through hers and offered her a soft, albeit tired smile. So he looked like hell, and didn't feel a lot better than that physically. But exhaustion wasn't going to keep him from spending Christmas day with Chloe.


End file.
